The places where a book takes you

When I was reading Ceaseless Chatter of Demons, I was in Sri Lanka. I felt a part of my life was linked to Sonny’s life, struggling to breathe between Walauwa and English life.

When I was reading Bastard of Istanbul, I was in Turkey (and Arizona). I was living the lives among Tchakhmakhchian family, fighting for Asya’s freedom.

When I was reading To Kill A Mocking Bird, I was in Alabama. Back in time, fighting racism.

It feels like I have an invisibility cloak with which I am able to roam around to different places and new families, getting a hang of their pain, surviving through the atrocities of their life.

It’s like I am a part of them- but writing a different story.

This post is a part of challenge that I took. I will be writing 100 words everyday for 100 days. Day fifty seven is here. Thank you for reading.